An Immense Loss
by Elven Victory
Summary: Extremely sad. What does Oliver Wood do when he’s away from Hogwarts? What if he had a secret that none of us know about? What if his parents were…different? No slash. One shot!


An Immense Loss  
  
Warnings: You should not really read this story if you are an Oliver Wood fan. I have nothing against him, myself, but if he is your favourite character, I advice you not to read this. You can if you want, but please do not say I didn't warn you.  
  
Disclaimer: Nothing you are familiar with in this story belongs to me. J.K.Rowling created all of the Harry Potter material, such as names, people, etc.  
  
Summary: Set in the summer after Harry's first year. What does Oliver Wood do when he's away from Hogwarts? What if he had a secret that none of us know about? What if his parents were...different? No slash.  
  
Important Notice: This is not, and I mean this is not, how I portray Oliver Wood. Of course, I believe he lives in a normal house with a normal family and such. Please do not say that I'm pitiless by writing this story, because I do not believe a word of it and it is not how I represent him. One-shot story, by the way!  
  
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Oliver Wood dragged his broomstick through the thick, dark forest, dressed in clothes of leaves. He had been to the edge of the forest to fly, and was now looking for his parents. But he could not seem to see them anywhere, due to the dark canopy of leaves and branches above him. Somewhere up ahead of him, he could see where a small ray of sunlight glanced through the branches, illuminating the forest floor below.  
  
"Mum, mum, where are you?" called Oliver.  
  
Then, he saw her. She stood quite a way away, and even though she didn't have a mouth or nose, Oliver could tell she was happy.  
  
"There you are, mum!" He said quietly, walking over to her.  
  
His mother looked down at her son. She looked happy as her leaves and branches blew slightly in the breeze.  
  
For Oliver's mother wasn't a normal person – neither was his father.  
  
They were both Oak trees.  
  
"Mum, I had such a great time flying. It's a shame that you...you can't come and see me," The Quidditch captain said to his mother, sitting down by her thick roots and smoothing his leaf clothing down.  
  
Her eyes widened as though she understood.  
  
"Yes, and – Dad! There you are. Don't think I can't see you." He gave a slight chuckle at the last remark.  
  
Two pairs of large, oval brown eyes opened up and looked directly at the boy. Oliver's father stood just left of his mother, and their branches swayed in the breeze.  
  
"It's just so nice to have two parents. I know you can't...can't talk or anything, but it is still really nice. Look, I can shelter under mum's leaves while it's raining, climb dad if I'm bored and just generally have a good time with you. What more could a teenage boy ask for?"  
  
The two trees stared at their son, who was now playing with the leaves that were covering him.  
  
"So, how is life from up there? Is it nice, or do you get bored of seeing the same sights?" he asked.  
  
His mother stared and rocked slightly.  
  
"Oh, that is good. If you weren't enjoying the sights, it would be boring, wouldn't it? Can I climb you, mum?"  
  
The tree that Oliver was leaning against shut her eyes and swayed her branches slightly.  
  
"Gee, thanks mum!"  
  
Wood put one leg onto the thick trunk and began to climb it, smiling madly all the while.  
  
When he reached the top branches, he looked around the large forest. His mother was one of the highest trees there, so Oliver felt quite proud. He lay down on the thick branch and looked up to the sky, daydreaming. It was a perfect day – there was a bright blue sky above him, and birds flew past him, looking for somewhere to rest. Then, he remembered how his parents had come to be trees.  
  
----(Oliver's POV)----  
  
It was as far back as I can remember. I must have only been about six or seven, and I was playing on my plastic broom in the back garden. Of course, my parents were normal then.  
  
"Oliver, Oliver, come inside and have some lunch!" my mother, whose name was Olivia, called from the kitchen window.  
  
"Vroom, vroom, vroom - coming mum!" I shouted.  
  
Then, I dismounted my broom and ran into the kitchen, where my mother licked her index finger and rubbed it against my left cheek.  
  
"You have some dirt there, sweetie," she said, as she continued to rub the dirt away.  
  
"Good afternoon, folks," my father, who was a wizard, said as he entered the kitchen, a newspaper clutched firmly in his hand.  
  
"Afternoon, dad," I replied in my young voice.  
  
Then, mum went away, and I took down my plastic plate from the unit. My lunch that day consisted of toasted bread, fried eggs and hotdogs.  
  
I put my plate down on our wooden table, and mum brought me some grape juice in my plastic cup.  
  
"There you go, sweetie," she said softly, her blue eyes twinkling.  
  
"Thanks mum."  
  
Life that day was normal; after lunch, I went out and played on my plastic broom again. I remembered that I wanted to be the world's best Quidditch player – still do, actually. Dad came outside and helped me to fly it. He even let me go on his broom, and that was great.  
  
Before long, it began to get dark, and mum called me in to have dinner. Dad brought me into the house on his shoulders, and everything seemed so nice.  
  
Dinner consisted of roast potatoes, turnip and chicken pie, although mum didn't give me so much as her. I remember the discussions we had, too, and Dad told me off for talking about You-know-who. Mum didn't understand so much, her being a muggle and all, but she knew something about him.  
  
I finished my dinner, said goodnight to mum and dad and went to bed, thinking that the next day would be normal. But it wasn't going to be.  
  
I made my way onto the landing of our home. It was pitch black, and I had woken up to see mum after a bad dream. I looked into their bedroom – the sheets were made and no one was there. Looking up at our clock, I could see that it was half past eleven at night, and no sound could be heard from downstairs or upstairs.  
  
"Mum, Dad?" I called.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Mum? Please? Dad?" I called again, making my way down the stairs.  
  
I entered the kitchen; no one was there. I made my way into the living room. Still, not a sound could be heard. Then, I made my way into the hall and noticed that the front door was ajar, so I opened it up a bit more and went into the front garden, still dressed in my pyjamas.  
  
"Mum?" I called, shivering in the cold, winter night air.  
  
Only the swaying of the leaves on the trees could be heard across the road. I walked down the garden path, went through the open gate and stared into the dark forest across the road. My eyes stung after a while as I stared into the darkness, not wanting to move.  
  
I heard a howl a little way into the forest. Was that a dog or...a werewolf?  
  
I gathered up my courage and began to walk towards the edge of the forest. A thick black haze was all that was visible, and the cold air stung the back of my neck as I made my way onto the mud path.  
  
I trembled as I walked, and my feet stung because I hadn't put any shoes on. After what felt like two hours, I saw three figures talking a little way ahead of me. One of them was tall and unfamiliar, but the other two I recognized straight away.  
  
"Mum, Dad!" I whispered.  
  
All of a sudden, the unfamiliar person, who looked like a man, spun round. He had a mask on, but it slid off his face slightly and I could see that he had silvery blonde hair. Everything went silent once more as he studied the area, and I hid behind a nice thick tree. Looking closer, I could see that mum and dad were tied up, and mum's mouth was gagged. The man turned to face them again and spoke in a soft, quiet voice, although it was quite clear what he said.  
  
"The Dark Lord would not be pleased if he was still with us. Imagine a Death Eater like yourself marrying a muggle, Owen? You should have realised that if he didn't kill you, I would," he was saying.  
  
Owen was my father - him, a Death Eater?  
  
"We all thought he was gone for good, Lucius. You know that? Yes, I admit, I met Olivia long before he disappeared, but it was just a small thing then, you know?"  
  
To his left, mum tried to speak, but her words were muffled.  
  
"Be quiet, muggle. I think you deserve something much more than dying. How about spending the rest of your life as trees? Master would be pleased if he was still here – at least I haven't forgotten him altogether. Goodbye, Mr and Mrs Wood..." Then, the man drew out his wand, "Becuman Quercus!"  
  
Instantly, a brown, wood-like substance shot up mum, and her eyes widened. Hardly three seconds later, the wood had wrapped her up completely, and all I could see was two enormous blue eyes. The wood carried on growing, and it only stopped when it was as high as all the other trees. The same happened to dad.  
  
The man called Lucius looked around quickly and held his wrist up to his eyes. Then, he vanished without saying another word. I went over to the two trees, not wanting to believe what I saw and hoping this was all just a dream. But it wasn't.  
  
My parents had become trees.  
  
I managed to get home, but my mind was tired. All I could think about was mum and dad. They were out there somewhere as trees, and I was perfectly fine. It just wasn't fair – why didn't he take me too? That mean, nasty man. He was one of those Death Eaters, but I never knew my dad had been. I went to bed to mum and dad's bed and fell asleep, not wanting to wake up.  
  
The next day dawned, and my muggle Aunt came to visit my parents. When they weren't there, she went back to her home and called the police men, although they couldn't find out what happened to mum and dad. She had to take me to live with her. After about three years, I went in search of my parents and found them – but they were still as trees. I decided that having trees as relatives was much better than nothing, so I went to live with them in the forest.  
  
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Oliver swayed in the branches of his mother, now almost asleep. He felt the warm summer air gliding over his cheeks, and the forest was silent, except for the loud call of a bird somewhere in the distance. Yes, life up here was good – so warm, so silent, and he had his parents right next to him.  
  
All of a sudden, a loud noise echoed through the forest, and the trees trembled. Oliver opened his eyes quickly and saw a flock of birds flying away from a large tree near him. Then, the noise got louder, and the boy began climbing down his mother.  
  
"Mum, mum, what do I do?" he asked shakily.  
  
The tree gave no response, but opened its large eyes.  
  
The noise got louder, and looking to his left, Oliver could see that it was one of those muggle machine things that cut down trees. It was huge, and people were calling from it dressed in yellow builder hats.  
  
"Oh no! Mum, Dad, it's one of them!"  
  
The machine was bright orange and enormous. It drove towards Oliver and his parents, and his mother opened her eyes wide. She tried to look down at her son and he knew at that moment that he had to go.  
  
"Mum...I can't leave you!" He called over the falling of trees.  
  
The tree gave no response but shook its branches. Then, the tree with brown eyes looked at its son and shook its leaves.  
  
"Dad, I can't leave you either!" Oliver cried. He ran towards the machine and waved his arms frantically, to try and stop it, but it did not halt.  
  
The machine drew nearer, and then, the boy decided to make a run for it. He ran through the thicket, not looking back, and heard two trees fall to the ground heavily. Tears streamed down his eyes.  
  
"Mum...dad..." he muttered. "I love you."  
  
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Darkness was looming over the forest, and Oliver awoke to find himself in the undergrowth. All was silent.  
  
Quietly, he began crawling through the thicket and soon came to what was once the middle of the forest. All the trees had been cut down, and looking in front of him, Oliver noticed that only baron land was in view.  
  
Then, the boy looked behind him to where a stack of trees lay, and what he saw brought tears to his eyes.  
  
On one of the trees, he could see outlines of two eyes. Then, Oliver knew.  
  
He was a true orphan.  
  
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Author's Note: Yes, it's awful, I know. I just thought it would be a change to write it because it's a bit more humorous than my other stories. After all, both of my current stories are going to be quite dark, so I needed to get away for a short while. I am glad you read it, anyway. Thank you. 


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